


When Universes Collide

by Calacious



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Batman - Freeform, Caring Severus Snape, Colliding Universes, Damian's point of view, De-Aged Draco, De-Aged Harry, De-aged Ron, Faulty Portkey, Gen, Magic, Meddling Dumbledore Mentioned, Nightwing - Freeform, Out of Character, Prompt Fill, Red Hood - Freeform, Rescue Mission, Robin - Freeform, rooftop meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: Sometimes Damian feels like he's the only adult in his family. When they encounter three random children on the roof of Wayne Towers, he knows he is.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 148
Collections: Week 7: Rescue Mission





	When Universes Collide

**Author's Note:**

> Draco is 8, Harry is 6, and Ron is 4. They were de-aged in a potions accident, and Severus has been taking care of them. They get hold of an ancient, shiny object, which happens to be a portkey, and are whisked away to Gotham. This story is told from Damian's point of view (poor, long-suffering Damian), so you won't get any of the whys for the whole potions incident, Severus' changed attitude toward the children, or how they've come to be in his care. 
> 
> This is a collision of universes, and characters are not necessarily in character. Hopefully you will be able to suspend disbelief enough to enjoy this brief snippet of their tale, and understand that there is a whole tale untold. 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoy. Have a fabulous day!

Three boys stood on the top of Wayne Tower, eyeing the vigilantes with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and disdain. Damian had no idea how the boys came to be on the tower, and none of them were talking.

"B, they're just kids," Grayson, dressed as Nightwing, said, gesturing toward the trio of boys in question. 

Father was frowning at Grayson, eyes narrowed at the three boys who were huddled together on the rooftop of Wayne Enterprise. They weren't dressed for the cold, wintry weather, and looked like a slight wind would blow them away, let alone the strong gusts of wind that were currently battering them.

Damian sighed to himself and rolled his eyes at his father and oldest brother. Both were stubborn as mules and a decision as to the boys' fate was unlikely to be decided in a timely manner if he left it up to them. 

"Batman," Damian said. "It's late and it's cold, Nightwing is right, these boys don't need an interrogation right now, they need some sustenance and a warm place to bed down for the night. Perhaps it would be wise to--"

"Robin," his father cut him off sharply before Damian could finish his thought.

Damian crossed his arms over his chest and gritted his teeth. He ignored Grayson's ridiculous grin, knowing that the man was overly pleased to have Damian agree with him. 

"It's the only logical option," Damian said, biting off the 'father' that he'd wanted to add at the end. 

The tallest of the boys was watching them warily. He was shivering, but shielded the two smaller boys with his body. It reminded Damian of the way a mother wolf protecting her young in the wild, or the way an older brother would take care of his younger siblings -- like Grayson with him (annoying and unnecessary as that was). In other circumstances, he'd be impressed. As it was, he was just worried, and wary. Their location, on the top of the Wayne building, was odd in and of itself. Why were they there? How had they gotten there?

Damian doubted that the three were brothers in the conventional sense of the word. They looked nothing alike. Of course, they could be brothers in the same way that Grayson insisted that he, Todd, Drake and Damian were brothers. 

The tallest, possibly the oldest, had the blondest hair that Damian had ever seen; it was so blonde that it was almost white. His grey eyes seemed almost cold in their wary assessment of Robin, Batman and Nightwing. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old, though. 

The next tallest boy had a shock of dark hair, not unlike the dark hair that he, Grayson and Father sported. His green eyes were shockingly bright, though the thick, crooked glasses that he wore made them look obscenely large. He was holding his left arm, as though guarding an injury, and kept stealing curious, yet fearful looks at Father. Damian estimated that he was maybe four or five, six years old at most. He was much too skinny; Damian could almost see the boy's ribs through his tattered shirt.

The youngest boy had red hair that would put Harper's to shame. He also had a splash of freckles across his nose, and the bluest eyes that Damian had ever seen. His mouth was turned down in a frown, and he was clutching the oldest boy's shirt with grubby fingers. He had the most open look on his face of the three of them, and Draco estimated him to be about three or four years of age. He held a tattered bear to his chest. 

The youngest disengaged from the huddle and took a tentative step forward. He jerked away from the oldest boy's attempt to snag the back of his shirt and pull him back. 

"Weasley," the oldest whispered harshly. The middle boy shuddered and flinched at the other boy's reprimand, and the blonde rolled his eyes. "Relax, Potter, I'm not going to hit anyone."

"He promises," Weasley said, reaching for Potter's hand and squeezing it before starting forward again. 

Weasley walked right up to Father and looked up at him. He tilted his head to the side and looked him over. Father frowned the whole time, arms crossed over his chest in a way that would have intimidated the toughest of criminals, but seemed to have no effect on the red haired boy, Weasley. 

"You don't look like a bat," Weasley said. He turned toward the other boys and gestured at Father. 

"Right, Dragon? He doesn't look like a bat. He doesn't got those little beady eyes or fangs," the little boy said, mimicking bat fangs with his fingers, and squinting his eyes. "He's not scary at all. Not like the bat in the attic." The little boy shuddered, blue eyes going impossibly wide. 

Grayson laughed and clapped Father on the shoulder. "Kid's got you there, B."

Father's lips twitched in his version of a smile that he was trying desperately not to let show. 

"You look like a big, black cape man," the boy said. "Are you a wizard?"

"Get back here, Weasley," Dragon hissed. "Stop bothering that man. What did I say about talking about magic?"

The little boy huffed and stomped back to Dragon and Potter. "But he has a cape, like Uncle Bilius."

"Not everyone who has a cape, or a robe, is safe, or a wizard," Dragon said in a harsh whisper. "We need to stick together."

"Magic's not real anyway," Potter mumbled. 

He was looking at his feet. Damian's eyes were drawn to them as well. The boy was wearing a pair of shoes that were too big and had too many holes in them to be of much use for him. Upon further investigation, Damian saw that the boy had to hold up his pants with one hand to keep them from falling off of his thin frame. His tee shirt was sliding off of one shoulder and was also riddled with holes. It looked like it had been through some kind of war, and the red was so faded that it looked almost pink. He also had dark bruises in the shapes of fingers on his arms and shoulder.

The younger Weasley's clothes, while in slightly better condition, looked well worn. They were dirty and stained, and there were holes in the little boy's jeans that had been poorly patched. The shirt bore small holes as well, and the neck had been pulled well out of shape. The shoes were almost as deplorable as the ones that Potter wore, except it was clear that they were at least a half a size too small rather than too big. 

Dragon's clothing was a stark contrast to what the other two boys were wearing. His dark slacks were pressed, and his shirt had clearly been ironed. There was no evidence of staining whatsoever. His shoes were of a better quality than what the other boys wore and were polished. 

These boys were not brothers in any sense of the word that Damian could imagine. He could not imagine that a parent or caretaker would keep the three boys in such differing states of clothing, no matter which one was the true son. Clearly they were from different families and had somehow found each other and ended up on the roof of his father’s business. 

"Not that again, Potter," Dragon said. "Honestly, those muggle relatives of yours need to have a visit from my Uncle Severus. He'll set them straight."

The little boy paled and shook his head. "It's okay, Dragon," he said, eyes growing wide with fear. "I won't say that again. Promise. Don't have your uncle visit."

Dragon rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's criminal, what your relatives are doing, you know."

Potter shrugged and bit his bottom lip. He turned his gaze toward the ground, and gripped Dragon’s shirt a little tighter. “They put a roof over my head and clothes on my back,” he whispered the words as though from rote memory.

Dragon’s cheeks turned red and he opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. It was clear to Damian that the younger boy’s words had angered Dragon. Perhaps it was an argument that they’d had many times, because he let it drop. 

Damian felt his own blood boil a little when he regarded the boy’s clothes for a second time. The clothes the boy’s ‘muggle’ (whatever that meant, maybe it was slang for rubbish or terrible) relatives had provided were more like rags than actual clothing. What kind of roof had they provided for the boy? If his clothes were anything to go by, Damian doubted that it was anything worthy of being called a roof. The boy would have been better off being raised by wolves. 

“Dragon,” Weasley tugged at the older boy’s shirt, earning a long suffering sigh from the older boy. “I’m tired. Can we go home now?” 

He lifted up the arm not clutching the tattered teddy, his bottom lip poking out in a manner that was clearly a pout. Rolling his eyes, and sighing loudly, Dragon accommodated the little boy, pulling him up into his arms and letting him rest his head against the boy’s chest. 

“B,” Grayson prodded, voice imploring. He was looking at the boys, and Damian could just imagine the imploring look in his brother’s eyes. 

“Fine,” Father said, though he did not sound happy about conceding to Grayson’s wishes at all.

“Boys, what do you think about going to stay at the house of a good friend of ours?” Grayson asked cheerfully. 

Dragon narrowed his eyes at the former acrobat and considered his words carefully before nodding slightly. It was clear that he didn’t like the idea of leaving the rooftop and going anywhere with them, but couldn’t see another option. 

“If we go with them, how will we get home?” Potter asked.

“Don’t worry,” Dragon said. “My uncle will find a way to bring us back home, but we can’t stay up here. It’s cold, and Weasley’s getting heavy.”

“I can hold him,” Potter offered, wincing as he straightened the arm that he’d been holding.

Dragon rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “I’ve got him.”

“If you’d like, I can hold Weasley,” Damian offered in as unthreatening a manner as he could. 

Dragon shook his head, and held onto the boy even tighter, which was slightly amusing. Damian didn’t laugh, though, and he kept the smile that wanted to play across his lips to himself. Grayson, however, failed at keeping a large smile from his face. He often failed at endeavors like that, though. Not that he tried very hard to keep himself from smiling, or hugging, or doing all manner of unseemly, embarrassing things whenever he felt inclined to do so. It was rather maddening at times.

“How did you boys get up here?” Father asked in his gravelly voice, making the dark haired one shiver and clutch the blonde one in fear.

Dragon shrugged, and lifted his chin a little haughtily, even as the red haired little boy cracked an eye open and said around the thumb in his mouth, “Magic.”

“Magic?” Father questioned, taking a step forward, and causing the trio of boys to take a step backward, putting them closer to the edge of the roof.

Dragon muttered something beneath his breath, and Potter shook his head, but Weasley nodded, and blinked tiredly. “‘M tired, Dray,” he said. 

“I know you are,” Dragon said in a voice that was much more patient than it had been a few more minutes ago. 

“I’m tired, too,” the Potter boy murmured. He kept himself partially hidden behind Dragon. 

“This is ridiculous, Father,” Damian said, unmindful of his choice in wording, and not caring at the way that the boys gasped. “We don’t have time for an interrogation right now.”

Grayson squawked at Damian’s choice of words, and gave him an incredulous look that had Damian grinding his teeth. 

“They’re just children,” Grayson said. “We don’t need to interrogate them at all.”

“Who’s interrogating children?” Todd snarled as he landed on the roof beside the children, frightening them even more.

“Hood, this is no concern of yours,” Father said, crossing his arms over his chest once more.

“Enough!” Damian shouted. His voice was taken by the wind, which had kicked up considerably. “We need to get these children off this building, and bring them somewhere safe, not have a ... a pissing contest.”

Everyone turned to stare at him and he threw his hands in the air. “Hood, would you mind helping us get these three onto solid ground?” Damian asked, feeling rather bold and like he’d taken over the role of being the adult. 

“That depends,” Todd said. 

“On what?” Damian asked.

“Where are you taking them?”

“To stay with our mutual friend,” Damian said while his father and Grayson watched.

“You really think that’s for the best?” Todd asked. 

Father’s and Grayson’s jaws and fists were clenched. Todd’s were as well. Damian rolled his eyes. Their posturing was a waste of time. In the end, the boys would be brought to Wayne Manor and cared for by Father and Pennyworth. It was an inevitable conclusion to tonight’s strange encounter, and the impending argument was not going to change anything. It was just going to keep the three boys shivering in the cold wind that much longer. 

“I’m scared, Dray,” the Weasley boy whispered none too quietly when Father and Todd shifted to face each other. “Are they gonna hurt us like the Death Eaters did?”

“Hush,” Dragon said. “I won’t let them hurt us.”

“I wish your Uncle Severus would find us now,” Potter said. 

“Me, too,” Dragon admitted. 

“I want my mum,” Weasley said, burying his face against Dragon’s chest. 

Tears would be coming soon if Damian didn’t take control of the situation. His father, Todd and Grayson were all too stubborn to be of much use, and he was getting tired of the ridiculous stand-off taking place between the three men.

“We don’t have time for this,” Damian said. “If you aren’t going to help me take the boys to Mr. Wayne, then I will do it myself.” He found it tiresome to refer to his father like that, but it was necessary.

“Who says they’re going to stay with Mr. Wayne?” Todd asked, hand hovering over one of his guns. 

“I do,” Damian said. “It’s the only logical option given the circumstances. Of course, we could always drop them off with child services.”

Todd’s jaw clenched even harder. Damian could almost hear the man’s teeth grinding. 

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Dragon said, lifting his chin in the air. While it was admirable, it was a stubbornness they could ill afford. 

“Tt...” Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, we’ll leave you to freeze to death on top of Wayne Tower.”

“Robin!” Grayson said, sounding scandalized. 

“Unca Sev’rus’ coming,” Weasley said around the thumb in his mouth. 

Before anyone could respond to the little, red-headed boy, the air around them seemed to swirl, and there was a loud, resounding pop, and a man came stumbling onto the roof, having appeared out of thin air. Damian blinked and resisted the urge to rub at his eyes. 

The dark-haired man was thin, and was wearing a black robe. There was a frantic look about him that abated as soon as he set eyes on the three boys huddling together on the edge of the roof. 

The man muttered something beneath his breath as he brandished what appeared to be a wooden wand that glowed at the tip. Damian moved to place himself between the dark man and the three boys, but his father’s hand gripping his shoulder rooted him to the spot.

“There you three are,” the man said, relief evident in his voice. 

The Weasley boy pushed himself away from Dragon’s arms, and held his chubby arms out to the newcomer in an obvious quest to be held by the man. The man’s face tightened, and he shook his head, but reached out for the little boy nonetheless. 

“I turn my back for one second and you disappear,” the man said.

“Sorry, Uncle Severus,” Dragon said. 

“It was shiny,” Weasley said. His eyes were closed and his head was nestled against the man’s robed chest. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the Potter kid said. He was looking at his feet again.

The man shook his head and pinched his nose. “Po--Harry, it’s not your fault. This is that meddling fool, Dumbledore’s fault. If it wasn’t for him and that shiny little bauble, I wouldn’t have had to go on this rescue mission in the first place, and you three wouldn’t be huddling on a roof, catching your deaths of cold.”

Potter frowned and cringed, and if it wasn’t for his father’s hand anchoring him to the spot, Damian would have rushed over to the boy’s side. 

“Merlin, give me strength,” the man muttered. “Harry,” he said in a much gentler voice. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to...”

“Having to be nice?” Weasley ventured around the thumb in his mouth. 

The man, Severus Damian supposed, sighed, and nodded. “Let’s get you all home, shall we?”

“I don’t think so.” Todd’s hand went to one of his guns, and he shook off Grayson's staying hand. 

“I don’t have time for this,” the man muttered. He waved his wand, and uttered words that sounded Latin in nature, but Damian couldn’t be sure because they were spoken so quietly, and the wind carried them away almost as soon as they were spoken.

“Father.” Damian’s mouth felt numb around the word as the air around the three boys and the man shimmered, and then, in the blink of an eye they simply disappeared with a pop. 

“Magic,” his father ground the word out like it was a personal affront, and Damian supposed that it was. His father hated anything that could not be explained by science, things that could not be proven through cold, hard facts.

“Magic?” Damian echoed the word, eyes narrowed on the spot where the four had disappeared before their eyes. 

Grayson sighed and scratched his head, Todd holstered his weapon, shoulders sagging, and Father squeezed Damian’s shoulder before releasing it. “Let’s get back to work,” Father said. 

“So, we’re just not going to talk about this at all?” Todd asked, gesturing toward the edge of the roof where the boys had been. 

“I’m for pretending that this never happened, if you are” Grayson said, shrugging. “I mean, it didn’t look like the kids were in any danger from the man who magicked them away.”

“I’ll take it up with Zatanna later,” Father said. “Right now, we’ve got a city to keep safe.”

“Finally,” Damian said as they readied to leap from the tower, and into whatever battle they could find below.


End file.
